Giving helpful advice to nonphysical beings from
many diverse realms of existence was a serious
responsibility that Ãcariya Mun continued to fulfill
right up to the time of his death. He was in
constant communication with such beings wherever he
lived, but more so in the mountain regions. There,
in remote wilderness areas, far from human
habitation, one group or another visited with him
almost every night. Even hungry ghosts, awaiting
offerings of merit dedicated to them by their living
relatives, came to seek his assistance. It was
impossible to tell how long they had been dead, what
family or nationality they had once belonged to, or
even whether or not those ghosts had any living
relatives left at all. In contacting Ãcariya Mun
they hoped that, out of compassion, he would assist
them by finding their living relatives and telling
them to make donations, dedicating a portion of the
merit to the dead to help lessen their torment and
suffering and make their lives more bearable. Many
of them had already suffered unspeakable miseries in
hell for such a long time that it was impossible to
calculate the length of their stay in terms of human
existence. When they were finally able to rise clear
of the hell realms, they still could not evade such
misfortune sufficiently to experience some measure
of comfort; instead, their suffering continued
unabated. For beings who are stuck with the
consequences of their evil kamma,
it matters little which state of existence they are
born into, since very little changes to help
alleviate their suffering.

Hungry ghosts used to tell Ãcariya Mun they had no
idea how long it would take them to work their way
through the consequences of their evil deeds. They
clung to one desperate hope: if he could kindly
inform living relatives of their plight, those
relatives might be willing to share the merit of
their good deeds with them, allowing them to escape
from such unbearable torment. When he questioned the
hungry ghosts about their relatives, they talked
about another world altogether, one that was
incomprehensible to him. Having died and been reborn
in one of the realms of hell, some had remained
there for tens or even hundreds of thousands of
years in nonphysical existence before being released
into another lesser state where they had to work
through the remainder of their evil kamma.
Their ghostlike existence then lasted another five
hundred to a thousand nonphysical years, so it was
quite impossible to trace their family lineage. Such
was the cruel irony of their karmic dilemma: by the
time that the most severe consequences of their
kamma were exhausted and only the lesser aspects remained
– a state where they could finally receive
assistance from their relatives – they had lost all
track of their families. So they had no choice but
to suffer that karmic misery indefinitely, without
any idea when it would end. Such ghosts resembled
stray animals who have no owners to care for them.

Other hungry ghosts could be helped somewhat, for
they died only recently and their kamma was not so severe – meaning that they were in a
position to receive merit dedicated to them by their
relatives. Since they had living relatives whose
names and addresses they could recall, Ãcariya Mun
was able to give them some assistance as long as
their families lived in the vicinity where he was
residing. Once he knew who they were, he looked for
an opportunity to speak with them. He advised them
to dedicate to their dead relatives, who awaited,
the merit they made by performing special religious
functions – or more commonly, by daily offerings of
food to the monks. Some ghosts are able to receive a
portion of the merit made by generous people
everywhere even though it is not specifically
dedicated to them. Therefore, Ãcariya Mun always
made such dedications while extending loving
kindness to all living beings. According to the
specific nature of their kamma,
some ghosts can receive merit dedicated by anyone,
while others can receive only the merit that is
personally dedicated to them by their relatives.

Ãcariya Mun said that ghosts live a very peculiar
type of existence. From his extensive experience
with them, he always found ghosts far more
bothersome than any other class of nonphysical
beings. Having no recourse to merit of their own,
ghosts depend on and always feel indebted to others
for their survival. Should these others fail them,
the ghosts are left completely destitute. Their
dependence on others puts them in the extremely
difficult position of never being able to stand on
their own.

Generosity and other forms of merit-making are
vitally important as the key elements for laying a
foundation of individual self-reliance in this and
in all future lives. All living beings are the
product of their kamma. They themselves must take
full responsibility for the consequences they
encounter. No one else can accept that
responsibility because no one can experience the
kamma generated by another. Births, both good and
bad, and the relative degrees of comfort and pain
one experiences therein, are the sole responsibility
of the individual who created the circumstances that
produced these outcomes. No being can substitute for
another in this regard. Even those who expect no
benefit from their actions still receive the karmic
credit for them.

Ãcariya Mun was an expert in matters concerning
ghosts, devas, brahmas, yakkhas, nãgas, and garuðas.
Although he did not always reveal the extent of his
knowledge, he had the ability to explore endless
varieties of phenomena within the many gross and
refined nonphysical states of existence that lie
beyond the range of human perception. His stories
about ghosts were quite hair-raising – even those
without fear of ghosts couldn’t help but feel
trepidation about the mysterious powers of kamma. He
said that if only people could see their own and
other people’s good and bad kamma in the way they
see substantive things, like water and fire, no one
would dare do evil anymore than they would dare walk
into a blazing fire. Instead, they would be eager to
do only good – which has the cool, refreshing
quality of water. Trouble would gradually diminish
in the world as each person worked to guard himself
against the dangers of evil.

ONCE WHEN ÃCARIYA MUN was explaining about heaven,
hell, and the ghost realms to the monks, one of his
senior disciples spoke up: “Since people cannot
actually see heaven and hell or the various
nonphysical
beings like ghosts, devas, garuðas, and nãgas, they
can’t fully understand the ultimate consequences of
their actions. But you can see all those things, so
wouldn’t it be a good idea for you to elucidate them
for the benefit of people everywhere? All are
natural phenomena which were clearly understood by
the Lord Buddha and his Arahant disciples. No one
has ever faulted the Buddha and his disciples for
teaching people about them, so I don’t see why
anyone should object to your doing so. People are
likely to show the same appreciation for your
amazing talents as we, your disciples, do.”

Ãcariya Mun was adamant in his response:

“The
kind of craziness that you suggest will destroy us
both. I have never considered speaking out publicly
about this matter. Should I do so, you and I and the
rest of the monks sitting here would end up being a
bunch of lunatics. And once the whole monastery has
gone mad, what kind of monastic asylum do you think
would accept us all? The sãsana was proclaimed and
taught with discretion – to be practiced,
understood, and spoken about with discretion. This
nonsense you suggest – is it really a matter of
discretion, or is it something foolhardy? Think
about it. In my opinion, the very thought of it is
crazy, let alone actually suggesting it. Even though
people might survive listening to us talk about it,
we ourselves would surely be doomed. So why bring it
up?

“If
you consider the tangible, visible things all around
us, people everywhere are quite capable of dealing
with them in an appropriate, reasonable manner.
Although Dhamma is the Supreme Truth, it still
counts on the involvement of people in the world, so
we should always work to harmonize the proprieties
of society with the Truth of Dhamma. The Buddha was
the first to clearly know and understand the true
nature of all phenomena. He spoke about them with
absolute assurance, but he was always impeccably
discreet in the way he handled these issues.
Speaking publicly about any of them, he invariably
took the specific circumstances and the people he
was addressing into consideration. He spoke then
only with the utmost discernment and discretion.

“Knowledge
and understanding about the diverse nature of
nonphysical phenomena is a prerogative of the one
who has attained that kind of perception. But
talking away indiscriminately about such knowledge
is quite abnormal, so normal people are reluctant to
listen. This is not intended to be a criticism of
anyone. Rather, what’s important to keep in mind
here is that those who do possess such knowledge
should act properly according to the principles of
Dhamma – for their own benefit and for the benefit
of everyone associating with them. Being convinced
of the amazing nature of what we have perceived is
not sufficient reason to speak out about things
which may encourage others to go mad. Those people,
who are keen on listening to such talk simply
because their religious conviction is dependent on
hearing about amazing phenomena, are already on the
road to madness. So I don’t approve of conviction
and amazement of this kind. I’d prefer that the kind
of discernment the Lord Buddha taught us be used by
people in their convictions, and in their sense of
amazement. Even though we aren’t all exceptionally
wise, at least there’s hope that enough good
judgment will be shown to maintain the sãsana,
preserving it for the future.

“Let
me ask you this: Suppose you had a certain amount of
money which could be useful to you if you were
clever, but harmful to you if you weren’t. How would
you handle it when going into a crowd of people to
insure that both you and your money were safe?”

The senior disciple replied: “I’d take every
reasonable precaution to look after my money.”

“How
exactly would you go about looking after it in a
large crowd of people to avoid any possible danger?”

“If
I felt it was appropriate to spend some of my money
there, I’d take care to count out and hand over the
necessary amount without allowing anyone to see the
larger amount that I still had with me. That amount
I’d keep well hidden from view to avoid any possible
danger.”

Acariya Mun then said: “Okay now, let’s suppose that
you possess a certain knowledge and understanding
about ghosts and other nonphysical beings. How would
you handle that knowledge discreetly in relation to
others so that it would be of some benefit to them
without becoming an issue of widespread, public
notoriety, which could be harmful to both you and
the sãsana?”

“I’d
have to use the same kind of care in handling such
knowledge that I’d use in handling my money.”

“Just
a moment ago, you implied that I should broadcast my
knowledge about such phenomena to the general public
without ever considering the consequences. Why was
that? I figure that
the average discriminating person would never
suggest what you just did, and yet you spoke right
up. If you don’t even have the common sense of the
average person, what will anyone find to admire in
you? I fail to see anything at all admirable in your
thinking. Should someone reproach you for lacking
judgment, how would you defend yourself when
confronted with the truth of this accusation? Think
about it: Which are the greater in this world, the
wise or the foolish? And how would anyone be able to
reasonably maintain the sãsana and preserve its
continued welfare by following the suggestion you
made to me just now?”

His disciple replied: “Thinking about it now, I feel
that what I suggested was totally wrong. I spoke up
because hearing about such amazing things has so
inspired me that I wanted to share this knowledge
with people everywhere. I assumed they would
probably be inspired as well and so benefit
enormously from it. But I never considered the
obvious adverse consequences that such a disclosure
would have for the whole sãsana. Please be kind
enough to forgive me – I don’t want to see this
tendency to be indiscreet become ingrained in my
character. I shall try to be more circumspect in the
future so that it doesn’t happen again.

“If
someone reproaches me for lacking judgment, I will
gladly admit my mistake for I clearly deserve the
criticism. Until you asked me just now, I had never
really considered whether or not the fools outnumber
the wise. Now I realize that there must be many more
fools in this world, since in our village
communities there are very few wise people who care
about moral issues. Mostly, people don’t seem to
know what they’re here for and where they are going.
They aren’t very interested in thinking about why
they do things and whether they do right or wrong,
good or bad. Being satisfied with whatever is easy
and convenient at the moment, they simply let fate
decide their future. I understand all this a lot
better now. Those people who are capable of
reasonably maintaining the sãsana and preserving its
continued welfare must be wise and discerning people
who lead others in an even, harmonious manner so
that everyone can benefit from their example. A
wise, discerning teacher is the cornerstone of
success in the same way that a capable leader is
essential to all affairs in all walks of life.”

Ãcariya Mun took up the discussion at this point:

“Since
you’re capable of understanding that a wise person
is essential to the success of every endeavor, why
don’t you think about what’s important in your own
endeavors as a practicing monk? Spiritual endeavors,
being very subtle, are difficult to fully
understand. For this reason, only clever, discerning
people can uphold the sãsana to perfection. Here I’m
not referring to the kind of cleverness that causes
destruction in the world and damage to the sãsana,
but cleverness that discriminates wisely, making
decisions favorable to one’s material and spiritual
prosperity. It’s this type of cleverness that’s
implicit in the first two factors of the Noble
Eightfold Path: Sammã-diååhi and Sammã-sankappo –
Right View and Right Thought. And these factors are
personified by someone whose words and actions
always follow the principles of wisdom.

“Even
Right Samãdhi is dependent on the analytical,
probing wisdom of Right View to avoid becoming ‘comatose
samãdhi’. When the citta converges into a
state of calm, wisdom should always be there,
playing a supportive role. Otherwise, how could
those dedicated to understanding the true nature of
all phenomena deal correctly with the knowledge
arising within the citta, or the external phenomena
with which it comes into contact? If wisdom is not
there to help, one is bound to make mistakes in
judgment.

“The
diversity of internal and external
phenomena that
can become involved with samãdhi is limitless, the
perception of them being limited only by each
individual’s natural inclinations. Those so inclined
will naturally perceive such phenomena and nothing
can prevent them from doing so. But the key factor
here is wisdom. Wisdom analyzes arising phenomena
and then chooses the ones that are suitable to focus
on, so that the rest can be allowed to pass by
without causing trouble. Those lacking wisdom will
even have a hard time successfully getting through
the samãdhi practice: they will find themselves
being pleased with this perception or displeased
with that one, ecstatic about this, despondent about
that – all are emotional reactions impinging on the
heart, causing it to become attached. Unless wisdom
is present to
effectively deal with them, such disturbing
emotional attachments can never be eliminated.
Wisdom can to be selective, ignoring what is
superfluous to focus on what is essential thus
indicating the direction in which one’s practice
should proceed.

“Our
purpose in being ordained as Buddhist monks is to
search for knowledge and wisdom so that we can
develop those virtuous qualities admired by people
everywhere. We aren’t here to parade our ineptitude
in front of the kilesas by succumbing to their
devious tricks, but rather to develop clever tactics
of our own to outmaneuver the kilesas, thus
countering their tricks. Living without an adequate
means of protection, we leave ourselves in a very
precarious position. The principles of Dhamma and
the monastic discipline are a monk’s protective
armor, while mindfulness and wisdom are his
preferred weapons. If we want to remain steady in
our practice and be constant in all situations, we
must maintain mindfulness and wisdom in all our
daily activities. Mindfulness and wisdom must
permeate all that we think, say, or do – without
exception. Only then can we be certain of our mode
of practice.

“I’d
really like to see all my students display
uncompromising diligence in their efforts to
transcend dukkha, using mindfulness and wisdom to
oversee this work. You will thus make yourselves
worthy recipients of the Buddha’s outstanding
teaching which stresses the importance of using
skillful means in all circumstances. I have no
desire to see my students floundering foolishly in a
state of confusion about emotional attachments
because complacency and laziness keep them from
doing the work necessary to carry them beyond these
dangers. So don’t be indifferent to the work at
hand.

“A
practicing monk who is striving to cross beyond the
world of saÿsãra is engaged in the noblest form of
endeavor. No other kind of work is more demanding
than the task of lifting the heart beyond the pain
and suffering experienced in saÿsãra.It
requires unstinting effort on all fronts – including
a willingness to sacrifice your life. Entrust your
life to your own diligent efforts as they attempt to
pull you from the abyss of the kilesas. Unlike other
types of work, there is no room for ambiguity here.
If you want to realize the wondrous results that you
have yet to experience, you must persist in putting
your life on the line for the sake of Dhamma. No
other method can be expected to achieve the right
result. You must be willing to give your life to
transcend the world of saÿsãra. Only then will you
be free of the burden of dukkha in future births.

“I
myself never expected to survive and become a
teacher, for my determination to transcend saÿsãra
was much stronger than my concern for staying alive.
All my efforts in all circumstances were directed
toward a goal beyond life. I never allowed regrets
about losing my life to distract me from my purpose.
The desire to maintain my course on the path to
liberation kept me under constant pressure and
directed my every move. I resolved that if my body
could not withstand the pressure, I would just have
to die. I had already died so many countless times
in the past that I was fed up with dying anyway. But
were I to live, I desired only to realize the same
Dhamma that the Buddha had attained. I had no wish
to achieve anything else, for I had had enough of
every other type of accomplishment. At that time, my
overriding desire was to avoid rebirth and being
trapped once more in the cycle of birth and death.

“The
effort that I put forth to attain Dhamma can be
compared to a turbine, rotating non-stop, or to a
‘Wheel of Dhamma’ whirling ceaselessly day and night
as it cuts its way through every last vestige of the
kilesas. Only at sleep did I allow myself a
temporary respite from this rigorous practice. As
soon as I woke up, I was back at work, using
mindfulness, wisdom, faith, and diligence to root
out and destroy those persistent kilesas that still
remained. I persevered in that pitched battle with
the kilesas until mindfulness, wisdom, faith and
diligence had utterly destroyed them all. Only then
could I finally relax. From that moment on, I knew
for certain that the kilesas had been vanquished –
categorically, never to return and cause trouble
again. But the body, not having disintegrated along
with the kilesas, remained alive.

“This
is something you should all think about carefully.
Do you want to advance fearlessly in the face of
death, and strive diligently to leave behind the
misery that’s been such a painful burden on your
hearts for so long? Or do you want to persist in
your regrets about having to die, and so be reborn
into this miserable condition again? Hurry up and
think about it! Don’t allow yourselves to become
trapped by dukkha, wasting this opportunity –
you’ll regret it for a long time to come.

“The
battlefield for conquering the kilesas exists within
each individual who practices with wisdom, faith,
and perseverance as weapons for fighting his way to
freedom. It is very counterproductive to believe
that you have plenty of time left since you’re still
young and in good health. Practicing monks should
decisively reject such thinking. It is the heart
alone that engenders all misjudgment and all wisdom,
so you should not focus your attention outside of
yourself. Since they are constantly active, pay
close attention to your actions, speech, and
thoughts to determine the kind of results they
produce. Are they producing Dhamma, which is an
antidote to the poisons of apathy and
self-indulgence; or are they producing a tonic that
nourishes the delusions that cause dukkha, giving
them strength to extend the cycle of existence
indefinitely? Whatever they are, the results of your
actions, speech, and thoughts should be thoroughly
examined in every detail; or else, you’ll encounter
nothing but failure and never rise above the pain
and misery that haunt this world.”

Ãcariya Mun’s response to the monk, who suggested
that he teach people indiscriminately about the
unusual phenomena he experienced, was fierce and
uncompromising. The gist of his reply makes for a
remarkable Dhamma teaching – one that is seldom
heard. It seems unlikely that the monk deserved a
condemnation as strong as Ãcariya Mun’s stirring
rebuke might have suggested. Perhaps speaking up was
his way of prompting Ãcariya Mun into giving us a
talk. As far as I could tell, if nothing out of the
ordinary happened to strike his heart and provoke a
response, Ãcariya Mun preferred to speak in a
smooth, easy manner – especially when the subject
was very profound. At such times, however, his
listeners often felt something missing and were not
fully satisfied with his teaching. But if someone
started something by asking him a question, or if he
became annoyed hearing some monks talk ambiguously
about Dhamma, or if their discussion piqued his
interest, then the Dhamma in his heart began to stir
and stream forth, expressing itself in unusual ways
that lent fire and
excitement to our listening.

Each time Ãcariya Mun delivered a declamation of
this kind his audience felt deeply moved in a way
that’s difficult to describe. I myself, having a
rather rough temperament, always preferred listening
to his fiery exhortations since they fit so well
with my natural disposition. For this reason, I
reckon that those monks who employed various means
to provoke Ãcariya Mun into fiery talks were in fact
using their ingenuity to come up with clever
provocations. Since they probably intended to
benefit from his response, they were not entirely in
the wrong. The resolute Dhamma expositions that
inspired me the most invariably occurred when I
asked him probing, prodding questions. His
explanations then were bound to be directed
personally at me, unlike the general explanations
meant for all the monks. Once I had lived with him
for some time, I came to know many different ways of
eliciting his comments without waiting for him to
bring these matters up himself in a general monastic
meeting.

ONCE ÃCARIYA MUN and three or four monks were living
in a secluded cave in Chiang Dao province. After
passing three nights there, Ãcariya Mun told the
monks that, in his meditation, he had seen a
spacious, inviting cave situated high up a steep
mountain slope in the area nearby. He told them that
many Paccekabuddhas 26 had resided there in the
past, but that nowadays monks couldn’t live there:
the ascent was too steep and the location too high
for finding a place within walking distance where
they could obtain alms food. He told the monks to
climb up the mountain to look at the cave, and
insisted they take a supply of food with them. Since
there was no path leading up to the mountain, they
would have to climb as best they could until they
reached the summit. The cave was situated a short
distance from the very top.

Taking several lay people along, the monks made the
climb to the summit where they found a beautiful,
spacious cave, exactly as Ãcariya Mun had predicted.
The air was clear and the ambiance pleasant and
inviting. The monks were so pleased with their
discovery that they didn’t want to leave. They would
have preferred to remain there indefinitely,
practicing meditation. Unfortunately, the cave was
so high up and so far from the nearest village that
they had no place to go for almsround. When the food
they brought was nearly exhausted, they had to come
back down to the cave where Ãcariya Mun resided.
Upon their return, he asked them about their
impressions.

“Well,
how was the cave, nice and inviting? Seeing an image
of it in my meditation, I felt it was so beautiful
and spacious that I wanted you all to go up and take
a look. I was sure you’d like it. When we first
arrived, I didn’t think to examine this mountain to
see what’s here. When investigating it a few days
later, I discovered how many strange, amazing things
it contains. That cave you went to is constantly
protected by terrestrial devas. Anyone acting
improperly there can expect to feel the
consequences. When I sent you up there, I forgot to
mention that the cave is protected by devas and to
warn you to restrain yourselves and behave properly
the whole time. I didn’t want you to be loud and
noisy, which is unacceptable behavior for a monk. I
was afraid that if the devas protecting the cave
were displeased, they might cause you discomfort by
precipitating something unpleasant.”

The monks informed Ãcariya Mun that they’d prefer to
spend a longer time in the cave; but he insisted
that, no matter how attractive the place was, it
would not be possible to live there because no food
was available. Ãcariya Mun spoke of the cave in a
very matter-of-fact
way, as though he had actually seen it many times.
Of course, he had never gone up there, the climb
being too steep and difficult. Nonetheless, he spoke
about it with the assurance of someone who knew for
certain that the knowledge arising in his meditation
was no mere illusion.

Ãcariya Mun constantly warned his monks to behave in
a careful, restrained manner wherever they went, for
the devas living in those remote places prefer
everything to be orderly and very clean. When
terrestrial devas witness such slovenly behavior as
a monk sleeping carelessly, lying on his back
spread-eagled like
a corpse, tossing and mumbling in his sleep
like an idiot, they feel quite disgusted –
regardless of the fact that it’s impossible for a
sleeping person to control his actions. Devas often
approached Ãcariya Mun to explain how they felt
about this matter.

“Monks
occupy positions of reverence and esteem in the
hearts and minds of living beings everywhere, so
their deportment should be guarded and restrained at
all times –
even while sleeping. As far as possible, a monk’s
appearance should be attractive and pleasing, never
disagreeable or offensive. We hate to see monks
behaving intemperately –
like ordinary lay people showing little concern for
the consequences.
Especially since the circumspection needed to act
with restraint is well within their capabilities.
It’s not our intention to be critical of all monks.
Devas everywhere are grateful for the opportunity to
pay homage to those monks exhibiting exemplary
behavior because we all appreciate virtue and dearly
wish to uphold the sãsana. We mention this to you so
you can warn your disciples to conduct themselves in
a restrained manner that’s appealing to human beings
and devas alike. Monks, who are worthy of respect,
will cause devas of all realms to feel an even
deeper reverence for the sãsana.”

In response to what the devas told him, Ãcariya Mun
always cautioned his disciples to keep all their
requisites in a neat, orderly fashion when staying
in remote mountainous areas favored by terrestrial
devas. Even the foot-wiping rags had to be neatly
folded and not just tossed in a heap. His monks were
required to relieve themselves in appropriate
places, and latrines were dug only after careful
consideration of the surrounding area. Sometimes
Ãcariya Mun explicitly told the monks not to make a
latrine under a certain tree, or in a certain area,
because the devas residing there, or passing through
on their way to visit him, would be displeased.

Monks who were already well acquainted with the deva
world needed no such caution, for they were fully
aware of the correct way to behave. Many of Ãcariya
Mun’s disciples do possess this capability. However,
because their proficiency in such matters is
developed in the wilds, they are reluctant to speak
about it openly, fearing that learned people
everywhere will make fun of them. But within the
circle of kammaååhãna monks, it’s easy to determine
their identity simply by listening to their
discussions about various devas who came to visit
them and the nature of their conversations with
these nonphysical beings. At the same time, we can
get an insight into each monk’s level of spiritual
attainment.